


Winner Takes All

by lah_mrh



Category: Gishwhes - Fandom, Red Dwarf
Genre: GISHWHES, Games, Gen, Humour, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 17:37:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5506781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lah_mrh/pseuds/lah_mrh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rimmer discovers his crewmates involved in a very strange game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winner Takes All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nic/gifts).



> I saw Red Dwarf on your list of GISHWHES crossover fandoms, and the idea just grabbed me. I hope you like it.
> 
> Takes place somewhere around series 3-4.

Something, Rimmer thinks darkly, is going on.

First he has to wait a full two minutes for Holly to give him a new uniform, only for her to ask if he knows any words that rhyme with 'elopus'.

"What the hell is an elopus?" is his understandable response.

"It's a cross between an elephant and an octopus," she replies, as if it should be obvious. Then her eyes light up and she exclaims, "Yellow bus!" and disappears before he can say another word.

Shaking his head, he puts it down to computer senility and continues on his way. 

Finding the Cat fashioning an outfit out of what looks suspiciously like bits of meat is barely strange at all, by Red Dwarf standards. Food and clothes are, after all, two of the Cat's favourite things. It was only a matter of time before he decided to combine the two.

It isn't until Rimmer comes across Kryten busily braiding coloured flowers together to form letters that he thinks to question the situation. "What are you doing?"

Kryten looks up almost guiltily. "Ah, Mr Rimmer," he says. "I'll be finished in just a few moments, sir."

Rimmer sighs. Sometimes it feels like he's the only person around here who's fully sane. "Finished with _what_?" he asks. Looking at the table he can see G, I, S, H, W, all made of braided flowers. As he watches, Kryten finishes his current letter and lays another H next to the W. Rimmer has no idea what he could be trying to spell, but whatever it is, he's fairly sure it's wrong.

"It's a game, of sorts," Kryten tells him, starting on another letter. His fingers don't falter for a second as he continues, "Mr Lister suggested it."

"Oh, did he." Of _course_ Lister is behind all this. Rimmer leaves Kryten to his flower arranging and strides out of the room in search of his slobby git of a bunkmate.

He finds Lister in their quarters, tongue poking out of the side of his mouth as he attempts to build some kind of vaguely upright structure out of pencils and paperclips. Rimmer clears his throat loudly and is gratified when Lister jumps and jabs himself in the thumb with a paperclip.

"Smegging hell," Lister mumbles, shoving his thumb in his mouth. "What do you want, Rimmer? I'm busy."

"Playing with pencils?" Rimmer asks, raising his eyebrows.

Lister frowns at the mess in front of him. "It's supposed to be Big Ben," he says, almost doubtfully. "Maybe I need more paperclips."

The words remind Rimmer of his original purpose in coming here. "Why is Kryten making letters out of flowers?" he asks. "And why is his spelling as bad as yours?"

Lister picks up another pencil, attention focused on his model. "It's just a bit of fun," he says. "Peterson and I used to do it back before the accident." He slots the pencil into place and begins wrapping paperclips around it.

"Do _what_?" Rimmer asks in frustration.

"Gish-wuzz," Lister replies, which makes no sense at all. "It's a scavenger hunt."

"Gish-wuzz?"

Lister pauses to straighten out some more paperclips. "G-I-S-H-W-H-E-S. Greatest Interplanetary Scavenger Hunt the World Has Ever Seen."

Rimmer stares at him. "I thought scavenger hunts involved running around looking for things, not sitting in your quarters building models out of pencils."

Lister shrugs. "Maybe, but GISHWHES is more about making stuff than finding it. Creativity, y'know?" He adds another pencil to his structure and adds, "This one's item 57. 'Build a model of a landmark out of office supplies.'"

"How many items are there?" Rimmer asks, curious in spite of himself.

Lister frowns. "About 200? I dunno. It changes every year."

Something occurs to Rimmer, then. "But it can't still be going after three million years," he points out.

Lister looks at him as if he's an idiot. "Of course it isn't. This isn't official or anything, I just thought it would be a laugh. The list for 2181 came out after I went into stasis, so it's as new to me as anyone else." He eyes Rimmer speculatively. "You could join in if you want."

"I can't touch anything," Rimmer reminds him.

"Neither can Holly, and she's playing."

"Is that why she asked me if anything rhymed with elopus?" Rimmer asks, remembering the conversation from earlier.

"Yeah," Lister replies. "I think one of the items was to make up a poem about an elopus. It's one of the GISHWHES mascots." He clears his throat and calls out, "Hol?"

She appears on the screen. "Yes?"

"Can you give Rimmer a copy of the GISHWHES list?"

Rimmer blinks as a slim booklet appears in his hand.

"Every item gives you points," Lister tells him. "The harder it is, the more points you get. We're going till Sunday, and then we'll count up the points and see who wins."

Rimmer weighs the list in his hands. "What do we get if we win?"

Lister looks at him, and there's a hint of challenge in his eyes. "That's up to the winner."

Now _that_ sounds like fun. Rimmer begins flicking through the booklet, looking for something with a decent amount of points attached. It might be a ridiculous waste of time, but he can't wait to see the look on Lister's face when he beats him at his own game.

Now if he can just find a live goose, everything will be perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> I know GISHWHES actually stands for Greatest Inter _national_ Scavenger Hunt the World Has Ever Seen, but I figure by the late 22nd century it might have expanded a little.


End file.
